10 Minutes

I may have written about Scotty before. I may have written about him several times. He has been on my mind a lot these past few weeks. It was Amy, my niece, Scotty's daughter; She changed her FB profile picture. When standing next to her mom, Amy and Wanda look like sisters. They are two peas in a pod. In that profile picture I saw my brother Scotty. It was Amy's eyes. Her eyes are like Scotty's. They hold the same majestic secrets. Thus he has been on my mind.
Scotty had a hard childhood. Scotty was a hard man. I believe he was 15 or 16 years older than me. As a young child I remember how mean Scotty was. He was an alcoholic. He was a mean drunk. Wanda endured a lot of abuse. We all did. Scotty had a mean tongue. If he could cut you with his words, he would.
Scotty worked with Daddy Pat in construction. He worked long hard hours. Then he drank long hard hours. Daddy Pat and Scotty went to work every day. Not a hangover, illness, weather - if there was a contract that needed completion, they went to work.
Oh I remember this Scotty. For 31 years I was pretty much afraid of him. We all were.
Scotty held faith, family, friends and work. That was the order. Scotty attended church on Sunday. He was always "there" for any of us. If any of his sisters, his father, mother, wife or daughter were in need, Scotty "provided." 
 I don't remember when or why he stopped drinking. I am glad he did. When sober Scotty had the most impish twinkle in his eye. If you looked into Scotty's eyes there was  a young boy just itching to play. Though he had a sarcastic smile - when he laughed you had to laugh with him. When Scotty spoke it was wise to listen. He was an intelligent man who spoke with clarity and common sense. What Scotty said, these were words to ingest.
You know how you can live your life knowing someone then a few minutes can change everything? This is what happened between Scotty and I.
While I was caring for Mommie Scotty came by almost everyday. He came by for lunch. After dinner he often came by so we could play ping pong. We spent a lot of time playing ping pong. I know I have told of how if we played 1,000 games of ping pong, I never beat him. He never took it "easy" on me. That was not Scotty. When you thought you were close to reaching his expectations -- Scotty would raise those expectations. Though Scotty never let me win and I never acquired the skill to beat him-I was a very good ping pong player. In HS senior hall, I was the champion.
See in those games of ping pong, or his demand of stacking wood to perfection, or his expectation of high grades, a clean room, attending school every day - Scotty was demanding, his demanding made me a better person. Though he did not know how to teach with kindness, his life lessons were invaluable. Scotty had difficulty saying "good job" or "I love you." He did not dole out praise. He just kept raising that bar.
It was 10 minutes. Measure your life by the moments that take your breath away.
Mommie had been hospitalized for 6 days. She went into the hospital for an overnight stay to have some test completed. On her first night she suffered a minor stroke. They kept her a second night. She was not improving. Her one night stay was into its fifth night. After work I went straight to the hospital. On that fifth night, when I arrived Mommie was in excruciating pain. Her abdomen was swollen. It kept swelling. As I sat there with her I could see it growing larger. The nurses ignored my pleas to call a Dr. They said Mommie was constipated. They said an enema was all she needed.
I knew they were wrong so I had a "Terms of Endearment" moment. Went all crazy up in there. The Dr. said Mommie required immediate surgery. The surgery left her in the ICU. This circumstance gave Scotty and I those 10 minutes during which we were both forever changed.
When someone is in the ICU there are 10 minutes out of each hour during which two family members may go inside to visit. The waiting room was small. Sadly, it was full. I sat in the blue chairs sipping my Mountain Dew waiting for those 10 minutes during which I could go inside and see Mommie. I kept with me a brush and some lipstick. Mommie would not want to be seen unless her hair was somewhat done and her lipstick applied.
Scotty arrived. He asked me how Mommie was. We talked about the weather. Then the 10 minutes came. The ICU was a circle. The nurses station in the middle. You were allowed in one door and exited through a different door. Walking that circle you avoided looking at each bed. Patients of the ICU were in bad shape.
Scotty and I arrived at Mommie's bed. I started to brush her hair and apply her lipstick. While doing this I talked to her. Told her Scotty was here. Told her I had spoken with Aldona Mae and Rosemary. Just talked to her. After a few minutes, I looked up at Scotty. He was standing a few feet from the bed. He was looking at Mommie. He was holding his breath. I told him to come closer. Encouraged him to talk to Mommie because I knew she could hear us. As I stroked her arm I said to him;
"You can touch her it's OK."
I watched Scotty's adams apple move up and down. He was swallowing so hard in a fight against his tears. He did not come closer. He was having difficulty breathing. Without lifting his head, he moved his eyes and looked at Mommie. Scotty's eyes were red rimmed and glassy. In them, for the first time in my life, I saw that little boy but this time he was afraid, he was so very sad.
The 10 minutes were up. We were ushered back into the dank waiting room. Scotty walked into the hallway. He leaned against the railing. His eyes still focused on the worn blue carpet. In an almost inaudible whisper he said;
"How do you do that?"
"Do what?" I replied.
"How do you wait here for 10 minutes, touch her, put on lipstick?"
"Well, I don't know. Mommie would not want to be seen without her lipstick you know that."
Then I kind of punched him in the arm.
"Mommie is going to be OK." I said to him.
"I have to get back. I respect you. Thank you."
Now I held my breath. I swallowed hard fighting back tears. To those words I did not have a response. Scotty kept his gaze on the carpet. Our conversation whispered. Were it not for my "teacher" hearing I may not have heard those words. Though hearing the words may not have made a difference.
It was in those 10 minutes inside that ICU room - the dynamics of my relationship with my brother Scotty changed.
I was no longer "sausage head" or a "good egg" just a little bit cracked. No longer were my prose and poetry "silly words." Teaching was not an "easy" vocation. I was no longer afraid of Scotty. He did not see me as a weak person, not anymore.
"Do you need anything?" he asked.
"Do you have any cash. I am almost out and I don't want to leave to go to the bank."
Scotty took his worn brown wallet from his back pocket. He emptied the contents. He handed them to me. It was $24.00.
"Is that enough? Do you want me to go to the bank and get more?"
"No this is fine. Thank you. Mommie is going to get out of there Scotty. She is going to be fine."
Scotty glanced ever so briefly at me. He sort of punched me in the arm. He turned to leave.
"Keep in touch. Let me know..." He whispered.
"Yeah, OK. I will talk to you later."
Down the hall he walked. His head was bowed. He did not look back. Turning left towards the elevator he disappeared.
I stood there for several minutes, my breathing returning. What just happened? Poor Scotty I thought. He was so afraid. Wow, I have never seen Scotty afraid.
After those 10 minutes nothing between Scotty and I was the same. We were bound in a new way. I held wisdom to which he quietly listened. When he looked at me his eyes spoke of an ache in his heart and pride - he was proud because I was his sister. He was proud of me. He respected me. He was grateful to me.
After Mommie passed I returned to CA. Once and again Scotty called me. He called me! 10 minutes changed 31 years of fear - 10 minutes changed 31 years of humorous tolerance. 10 minutes forged a mutual bond of love, respect, and gratitude.
About a month before Scotty died he called me. During that conversation - yes Scotty and I now had conversation. He spoke then listened to my reply. It was so cool. Scotty spoke of finally getting it with Daddy Pat. Finally understanding why he acquiesced to Mommie's every whim.
"Dad wasn't weak, he loved her."
Scotty continued to say such things. He spoke about Wanda. He said he was a lucky man because Wanda loved him so much she stayed with him. He told me how proud he was of Amy. How much he enjoyed looking at her.
"I didn't realize she was so smart."
And on he went. Addressing each family member. Speaking of this "new light" from which he saw everyone differently.
Scotty died suddenly and unexpectedly on a Friday night after having dinner with friends. There in the living room of the house he built for Wanda,  the same way his father at built a house for Mommie - In front of my dear Wanda and their dinner companions, Scotty died.
When I delivered his eulogy I so wanted that church full of people to understand, to really know that my brother Scotty - though on the exterior so hard and guarded - I wanted to express to everyone there that Scotty was forged from hardship yet his core was built from love. His sharp tongue and unbending expectations were walls he built as a means to protect his little boy hopes and dreams. It was so important to me - I wished everyone could see the "eyes" of my brother Scotty. The eyes I saw in that picture of my beautiful niece Amy - the eyes that look at me from his picture sitting on my desk.
10 minutes. Amazing when you think about it. Yes, measure your life by the moments which take your breath away. Those moments may not always be happy or joyous. They may not occur when all is going well. Embrace those "breathless" moments. We never know what precious gifts are given us in one minute or 10 minutes.